Trouble
by GoldeneyedJohnnycake
Summary: "Once, while Dallas was in reform school, Sylvia had started hanging on to Johnny and sweet-talking him and Steve got hold of her and told her if she tried any of her tricks with Johnny, he'd personally beat the tar out of her. Then he gave Johnny a lecture on girls and how a sneaking broad like Sylvia would get him in a lot of trouble." (There are more characters than the limit.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. Seriously, check it out. It's great. Hey, would you look at that? More Steve! I wonder if this is a trend. Enjoy! Let me know if you'd like more of this story, I'm torn between keeping it a one-shot and expanding it.  
_**

'When the cat's away, the mice will play.' I never thought much about sayings like that till Sylvia started hangin' around. She was just like one of them mice, her grabby little claws always reaching for a new piece of cheese. Dally hadn't even been in the reformatory a couple weeks yet, before I noticed her makin' eyes at me. She was a knockout- wavy brown hair, eyes like weak tea, an hourglass figure, and long, lean legs. Bright red lipstick was her color of choice, and it looked fine as wine on her. She had the mouth and skin to pull it off, not to mention the attitude. When she spoke, her voice would wheedle and purr, with a sorta raspy quality to it that I dug. My only complaint was how clingy she got. That got old real quick.

"Come on, honey, please? I just want one." Sylvia pleaded, yet again, for a kiss which I wasn't about to give her. Can't say I wasn't tempted, though. I bet her lips would've been soft.

"No, look, if you keep askin', I'll make you go on home. I'm only here with you 'cuz you're Dally's girl and I thought you was lonesome. Now would ya cut that out? I wanna watch the movie." I shoved her gently away, but she grabbed my arm with a grip as sticky as honey.

"Please, baby? I ain't Dally's gal no more, he left me; remember?" her finger softly grazed me below my chin, and I shifted in my chair, biting my lip.

"No. Stop it, Sylvia, you're Dally's girl, and we both know that. He's gonna kill either one or the both of us if we get mixed up together. Settle down now, and watch the film; it's gettin' real interesting." It wasn't, but I tried to lose myself in it anyway. There was no way in Hell I'd let her get her way. Not when she was Dally's girl.

We finished the movie after what felt like forever and a day, and I left the theater with Sylvia hanging on my arm like an ornament on a Christmas tree. "Quit that, pussycat! You're smotherin' me." I tried shaking her off, but it was useless. She was holding on for dear life, it seemed, and wasn't about to let go.

"I bet you liked me better'n that stupid film, Johnnycake. You kept glancing my way, I saw you." She simpered.

"No, I wasn't." I lied. I had looked, but her skirt was so damn short and tight, it was hard not to. Those fishnets looked real sharp on her, too. I wouldn't let her know how much I actually wanted to kiss her. I couldn't, she was Dally's girl. I kept repeating that to myself as we walked home. Her heels clicked against the pavement, drowning out my soft shuffling, and her nails kept stroking my earlobe. I swallowed hard. It was gonna be difficult to keep on denyin' her advances. She was fine, after all, and one of the only chicks who'd ever really paid me any mind.

Her laugh was like autumn leaves on concrete, but I was strangely attracted to it, all the same. When she started in on the back of my neck, I almost lost what little self-control I still had. It was all I could do to shrug her off. "Now, really, Johnnycake, play nice, would ya? I only want one teeny-tiny little kiss. Please?" Her breath was soft against my cheek as she laid her lips there. "Now it's your turn, babe."

"No, Sylvia, I can't." We'd reached the park, and she forced me to sit down on a bench. "You ain't my girl." The more I said it, the less I believed it. She was right here in my lap, and Dally was locked up in the reformatory. Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt. I stifled a moan as she laced her long fingers through my hair and wrapped around me like an octopus. "Hey, quit it! I don't want-" But I did want it. Nobody had ever given me anything like this before, and deep down, I wanted every last second of it.

"Yeah, I know you want it, Johnnycake. You wanna kiss me. Your skin's so soft, much nicer than Dally's." _Oh, no, she's Dally's girl!_ I thought, the mere mention of his name bringing me abruptly out of whatever spell she'd had me under.

"Git off me, you're Dally's girl, Sylvia! I can't kiss you, and you know it."

"Don't be mean, Johnnycake! I only wanted one, that's all." She pouted, oblivious to Steve, who was coming up the road at a dog-trot.

"What's goin' on here, Sylvia?! Ain't you got somewhere else to be?"

"Well, Johnny and I went to see a movie, and things got a little-"

"I don't care! You git on outta here, and don't let me _ever_ catch you hangin' around Johnny anymore! If I even think you're at it again, I'll beat the ever-living tar outta you, got it?" Steve's eyes were cold and hardened in his anger. He scared me when he got like this. I wiped unsuccessfully at her lipstick stain on my cheek.

"I got it, I got it. No need to tell me twice, Stevie. I think I'll just go on home now; bye, y'all." She gave me a little wave and a smile before turning toward the direction of her house.

"You better scat, pussycat!" We waited till she left, then he started in on me. "Now, what in blue blazes were you thinkin', Johnny?! Sylvia ain't the type of kitten you wanna get involved with. You should know better!"

"I wasn't thinking real clear; she wanted to kiss me, and she's just so pretty. Dally's gonna be mad at me, isn't he?"

"Not as long as you stay the Hell away from her. That bitch is a two-faced cheat and a liar, and I don't want you gettin' hurt. Chicks like her are crafty little foxes, and they'll use everything in their power to make sure you ain't thinkin' with the right head. Those broads start by buttering you up, then they suffocate you, and throw hissy-fits when they don't get their way. Then, once they're finished with you, they'll toss you aside like a used up dishrag and run on to the next poor cat. Is that what you want, Johnnycake?"

"No. She's just so pretty."

"Well, that's all she is. A pretty face with a heart of ice and nice gams. Don't you fall for that bullshit, you dig? You stay the Hell away from chicks like that. They ain't a lick of good. Just look at what she's done to Dally."

"I dig." I didn't make eye contact with him, even though I knew he was just worried about me. I couldn't scrub away the feeling of her nails on my earlobe, lips on my cheek, or fingers on my neck, no matter how much I tried that night. Sylvia sure has a real funny way of sticking to people. Just like honey. I'd stay away from then on, there wasn't a snowball's chance that I'd get mixed up with a girl like her again. Girls like Sylvia are more trouble than they're worth.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. Ivy was sort of based on the Little Red-Haired Girl in the Charlie Brown cartoons and comic strip. This chapter just doesn't seem to flow as well, sorry. If you have any suggestions on how I could improve this story, I'd love to hear them. (If you simply wish to flame me, that's also acceptable. I'll take any criticism I can get at this point.) I'm kinda stumped, to be honest. Sorry if Dallas sounds OOC, I've never really written his character before. Thank you for the lovely reviews and favorites, they keep me going.  
_**

Once Dally got out and word went around about Sylvia latching onto me, he didn't waste no time in kicking her to the curb. But, he always managed to get her back somehow; that chick is sticky. "Y'all do anything while I was gone, Johnnycake?" he asked as we walked home from the DX.

"No, Steve had to pry her off me, but I didn't ask for any action. She's a real looker, though, I'll give her that much."

"Yeah, that kitten's damn fine, but I'm glad she didn't getcha, Johnnycake. She woulda sucked you dry, and you don't need a girl who'll do that to you. You need a girl like Evie or Sandy; one who won't run out on you every chance she gets." Dally looked a little sad, but that passed as he laughed. "I wish I coulda seen what kinda bind she had you in. The way Steve talked about it was pretty funny."

"She was tryin' to suck my face off." I lit a cigarette, wishing I could forget her touch.

"She tried that with a different part of Shepard's anatomy once. Said it was the best he'd ever had." Dally stole the smoke from me, dragging on it thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't want her mouth that close if you paid me a million dollars."

"With your luck, she'd get her teeth caught in your zipper, kid."

"Why d'you dig her so much, Dally?" I buttoned my jacket, feeling a little cold.

"Man, if I knew that, I'd be rich and famous. I think it's those eyes. Somethin' about her eyes gets me weak every time. What'd you like about her?"

"Those legs. Her voice is kinda soothing when she ain't whining, too."

"Maybe we need to rustle up some action for you, Johnnycake. That way, you won't want a piece of mine. You think Two-Bit'll donate a blonde to the cause?"

"Nah, he's selfish." Just the thought of him bringing a blonde over to date me made me laugh. "Besides, he rotates 'em."

"How d'you know a thing like that?" Dally demanded, snorting smoke out his nostrils.

"Pony and I have a chart goin'. We started noticing patterns in how often certain ones would come up, so we decided to see how long it took him to go through the whole list."

"How long?" A smile crept into his voice.

"It takes about three months for the whole cycle, 'cuz one or two weeks is spent on each girl. I kinda feel sorry for 'em, though." I stopped to get a rock out of my shoe.

"I can't believe y'all have that much time on your hands." Dally shook his head, unable to keep the grin off his face.

"Well, it's better'n goin' snipe hunting."

"Anything's better'n snipe hunting, kid. I love that game, but we can only win so many times before it gets boring. What's your ideal girl look like, Johnnycake?"

"I dunno, I never really thought about it."

"Well, start thinkin' now. Let's use Sylvia for a basic idea. What would you change about her?"

"Look, I don't think I need a gal right away, Dally. I can wait a while."

"Steve put the fear of God in ya, didn't he?" Dally smirked knowingly.

"Yeah." I licked my lips, unwilling to tell him the truth.

"Well, ask me if you ever wanna get an easy catch, okay? I've been around that block a few times."

"I dig sea-green eyes." I said, knowing full well that he couldn't find a girl like that. I'd only seen one with eyes that color, and she'd moved away a long time ago.

"Why not just regular green eyes, Johnnycake? I ain't seen eyes like that in my whole life. Green eyes are everywhere."

"It's gotta be that sea-green color, Dally. It's real important to me."

"Whatever you say, Johnnycake, whatever you say. Don't be too broke up if I can't find that color anyplace, okay?"

"Okay." He must've thought I was sending him on a snipe hunt, or something, because he kept looking at me and shaking his head, cussing them sea-green eyes all the way home.

I spent the rest of the walk thinking of those eyes I dug so much. They belonged to a girl named Ivy, and she'd looked real nice in lavender. It was her favorite color, too. We'd met in kindergarten, when there was no other spot for me to sit, and hit it off right away. She had strawberry blonde ringlets and freckles that made her look like she was spattered in paint all over. I didn't mind, though, and we often found ourselves sharing the swing-set at recess. Nobody else would play with us- we were too different, and two of a kind as far as they were concerned.

Our friendship blossomed into love during the summer between junior high and high school, and on a honey-colored evening in late August, I kissed the softest lips I'd ever felt. As we went into high school that year, I noticed that Ivy wasn't hardly around school anymore, and when she did show up, she always looked a little sick. That never changed our feelings toward each other, but the constant empty seat beside me made me sad. Halfway through the school year, she didn't show up at all, and I heard that she'd been moved to a hospital somewhere back east. I miss her something terrible, and try to write her letters every night, hoping she'll come back. I know she won't deep down, but it helps me cope. I just wish I knew where to send them, the shoebox is getting filled to bursting.

None of the guys know about Ivy, and I'd just as well keep it that way. Me and her just weren't meant to be, it seems, and I don't need or want sympathy from any of 'em. I pray every night that she'd get well and hightail it back here soon, but I'm starting to wonder if it's even worth it. She was real frail last time I saw her. I know I could be chasing skirt with the others, but I spend that time praying for a dying girl I wish was still mine. I love her, though, and far as I could tell, she loved me too, so I guess that's worth something. Sylvia's touch will fade in time, but my love for Ivy never will; that's how I know it's real. I wouldn't give any of my time spent with Ivy for all the Sylvias or blonde bombshells in the world, no matter what Dally or anyone says. I trust the gang for everything else, but when it comes to Ivy, I know I've got it right.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. Ivy was sort of based on the Little Red-Haired Girl in the Charlie Brown cartoons and comic strip. Sorry about the dead air. I've been a bit busy lately. I hope you like this chapter, I'm not quite sure where this story is headed. If you have any input or opinions regarding what you'd like to see, please don't be shy to either message me, or leave a review. I'd love to know what you think._**

 _Dear Ivy,_

 _Sorry I haven't written for a long time, things have been too busy at school and home to have much time to write. I'll try to set aside time, but I can't promise anything._ I crumpled the paper, scowling, and threw it under the bed. I never knew just what to say to her anymore. Since she'd been gone so long, it was getting harder and harder to find stuff to write her about. She wouldn't wanna know about all the drafts I'd had to throw out because of either tearstains or bloodstains, often both, how many nights I'd had to sleep in the lot that week, or how many cuts and bruises my folks had given me. She wouldn't care; she'd never once cared about my home life, and had always been too polite or scared to mention how banged up I was whenever she saw me. She only wanted me to be around; she didn't mind how I looked when I got there.

I doubt Ivy would've liked it too well if I told her about Sylvia. I was supposed to only be hers and nobody else's, and girls act real funny if you tell 'em about other pretty girls who you'd been hanging around. They must get it into their heads that you don't love 'em no more, or something. I didn't wanna let Ivy think that, so I kept most of my personal stuff out of the letters. Besides, I don't think my talks with Pony or the other guys would look too good in writing. Sometimes they can get kinda off-color, and that ain't something I think I should share with a girl like Ivy. She's too sweet, and really, only the greasy girls go for that kind of thing.

I sat back against the wall, chewing on the pen cap and trying to find ideas to write about. I don't know why it was so hard, I mean, Pony never had any problems writing things. I didn't wanna have him help me write a letter to Ivy, though. That's the last thing I needed- my best friend knowing that I'm in love with a sick girl I haven't seen for a year, or more. It's kinda embarrassing, honestly. I don't think he'd tell, or nothing, but I don't want to admit that she isn't actually coming back. I hope she hasn't died; that's the one thing I'm afraid of. I'd hate to waste my time writing love letters to a dead girl.

After no ideas came out, I closed the notebook and shoved it beneath my bed again. I wouldn't write her today; my head was killing me anyway, and I had a ton of homework to boot. I'd write her another day when I wasn't still sorta thinking of Sylvia. Steve's threats hadn't stopped her glancing towards me any chance she got, so I just didn't look at her. If I gave in, it'd be the end of me, and I couldn't do that to either Ivy or Dally. _I just wish I knew what hospital she's in, then we could write to each other all the time. Maybe I could send the rest of those letters, too. Ain't no sense in keeping 'em if I found where I could send them._ But how would I know she'd even want to write me back? She could be too sick, or maybe she's moved on to dating someone else. It wouldn't be right for me to take her away from somebody else, after all, and maybe she's forgotten about me.

I tried writing Ivy that week more times than I want to admit, and I stayed up late trying to find letter topics with no success. I figured that unfinished scrap beneath my bed would be my last letter to her for a long time, when a thick, heavy letter came for me one day. The envelope was much nicer and official looking than the ones I'd been using, and I couldn't imagine why anyone with such expensive envelopes and paper would be writing to me. I stuffed it under my jacket as I ran down the hall to my room, where I opened it after closing the door. My folks would've thrown it out if they'd seen it, like they'd done with most other things addressed to me.

I couldn't tear it evenly, but it didn't hurt the paper inside any. I pulled it free as carefully as I could, still wondering what exactly it was before reading it. _Dear Mr. Cade,_ the letter began, _Our family is deeply saddened to inform you that Ivy has passed away earlier this week. She wished that you could have written each other, but as you know, the circumstances did not permit such exchanges taking place. You were the only one she mentioned on a constant basis, so I thought it courteous to write you, rather than the school, since I felt informing you that way would be cold and impersonal. My sister often talked about the happy times you had together, especially near the end, and your photograph was kept near her bed where she could always see it._

 _I must apologize on the family's behalf for not giving you a way to contact her, but she did want very much for you to have the items enclosed with this letter. Enclosed, you will find a photograph of Ivy, a pocket-watch holding a lock of her hair, a ring, and her last letter to you, which was written the day before she passed. Thank you for making my sister's life so sweet in the short time you spent with her, and I would like to keep in touch, if that isn't too much to ask. You seem to be an upstanding young man from the way she described you, and I would be honored if I could get to know you even half as well as she did. Should you like to send anything for the funeral, please use the return address located on the top right of the envelope, otherwise it may not arrive in time._

 _Once again, I wish to offer my most heartfelt condolences, and I hope that you'll keep in touch._

 _Sincerely,_

 _James Sinclair_

 _P. S. I'd like to address you as Johnny, if we start writing back and forth. I just thought this letter was a bit too formal for that kind of thing. I prefer to be called Jack. The return address is our home address, so save the envelope! I hope to write you soon._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. Ivy was sort of based on the Little Red-Haired Girl in the Charlie Brown cartoons and comic strip. The two poems were both by Emily Dickinson, if you hadn't already figured that out. Sorry for another heavy chapter._**

 _Dear Johnny,_

 _Sorry I just picked up and left without telling you, but unfortunately, cancer doesn't care about friends or love. I always meant to write, but the treatments make me so tired and ill, that I've found it's hard to do much of anything. I hope you haven't forgotten about me, but, knowing you, you wouldn't. I wish I could've at least said goodbye before I left, and exchanged addresses with you. It would've been nice to hear from you. I have a Dictaphone that I use to record my letters, but I know that isn't the same as writing. There's just something much more personal about a handwritten letter that isn't captured in recordings or phone conversations._

 _I hope you're well after all this time. I know people usually write that at the beginning of letters, but 'the apology comes first', as my mom and dad always say. I'm not doing so well, but I knew that when I had to go to this hospital. It's a shame they couldn't treat me closer to home, I would've loved to have you visit me. The hospital I'm in is so much bigger than any in Tulsa, and it's really cold all the time. I don't know why they keep hospitals so cold; if you ever find out, I'd love to know. The doctors have been checking on me more frequently and talking more often to my parents. I think I might be dying. I've been getting really tired lately, and the chemotherapy doesn't seem to be helping at all. They've been trying a few new Leukemia treatments, but I think the cancer's too advanced to do much good. At least if I do die, you'll be one of the first to know. I told Jack to put this in with his letter to you. I couldn't bear the thought of you going through life not knowing what happened to me._

 _Sorry the ink color is different, I felt tired about halfway through the letter and fell asleep. I know you won't mind terribly, you're too sweet to pitch a fit over ink colors. Remember how we always sat outside on the swings during the summer? Well, they don't have swings here, but the nurses let me sit in the sun room for about half an hour last Wednesday. I took your photograph along, but I won't lie to you and tell you that it felt like you were there with me, because it didn't. I missed you awfully bad, and I was nearly inconsolable after that. I can't imagine how hard this has been for you; I apologize if you've already found someone else, and I honestly wouldn't blame you for it. I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes._

 _I wore a lavender hair ribbon today because I was thinking of how pretty you said it made me look. I had to put it around a hat, though, because I don't have much hair left. I sent a little bit to you in a pocket watch, since I remember you saying that you wanted one. Hopefully you get it; Jack forgets to send things sometimes, but I doubt he'd forget that. I'm also sending you a ring. It was too big for my fingers, but I think it's about your size, and I thought of you when I saw it. It's a plain silver one, but I had it engraved on the inside, so you'll always have something to remember me by. The last thing I'm sending is a photograph of me in my favorite lavender dress- that one with the calico print. It was taken on my birthday last year, and I would've given it to you then, but I left so abruptly that I had no chance of doing so. I hope you like it anyway._

 _There may be some tear stains that smudge my writing, but I hope you'll forgive them. I know I'm not going to make it till tomorrow, and this letter is quite painful to write. Not in a physical way, I'm not in too much pain, but I can't wrap my mind around the fact that this will be my first and last letter to you. I suppose you could say that reality is sinking in now. I'm going to miss you the most out of everybody, I think. We needed each other more than either of us knew, and I don't want to leave you yet. I always imagined we'd get married and have kids and grow old together. Now we can't do any of that, and I'm so very sorry. I love you, Johnny, and I always will. I hope you still feel the same about me, I can imagine that this would seem crass if you'd already moved on. You know how people are always portrayed as so peaceful when they die? Well, I don't feel peaceful at all. Knowing that you won't be there with me is the real thing that's killing me inside. Do you know if one can die from a broken heart? I think I'm about to. I wanted to live my entire life with you, and I'm quite angry because I know that I can't. Forgive me, please, Johnny. I love you so much that it hurts. I think that Emily Dickinson said it best, when she wrote:_

 _'_ _My life closed twice before its close;_

 _It yet remains to see_

 _If Immortality unveil_

 _A third event to me,_

 _So huge, so hopeless to conceive,_

 _As these that twice befell._

 _Parting is all we know of heaven,_

 _And all we need of hell.'_

 _I'll miss you, Johnny; don't be too sad, though, because you'll see me again. I know you will, and I'll be looking forward to seeing you, too. I hope your life remains as sweet as you made mine, I couldn't have asked for a better friend or dearest love. Thank you for all the time you took to get to know me, and I'll be wearing lavender when next we meet._

 _With all my love forever and a day,_

 _Ivy_

 _P. S. Take my advice and don't eat too much raspberry pie at one time. The results are quite unpleasant, and it puts you off of eating the entire rest of the day. (Don't eat hospital Jell-O either, if you can help it. I think it's mildly radioactive, and any food that wiggles of its own accord should be avoided, as a rule of thumb. The peas also make great marbles, just in case you ever find yourself needing that information.)_

 _P. P. S. Feel free to sit beneath that oak tree with whoever you like. Don't avoid it out of respect for me, make new memories there, and have a grand old time. I don't mind you listening to those Eddie Cochran records with other girls either. He'll be keeping me company until you arrive. Please enjoy your life for me, that's all I ever wanted. Don't stop living just because you lose me, just have a special place in your heart for our memories to stay. I know that sounds sappy, but I don't want you to turn into Miss Havisham, or, have you gotten there yet? (If not, I apologize for spoiling that book for you. I've had ample time to read since I left, and I finished that one and many others besides.) Don't wait up for me, Johnny, we'll meet again in time._

 _P. P. P. S. If Jack forgets to send you those items I mentioned, please write him a strongly worded letter on my behalf. I gave him strict instructions regarding what to send and where to send it, but sometimes he can be a bit absent-minded. If he asks to write you, please don't be shy. He's very nice, as big brothers go, and I think y'all will end up as thick as thieves. You boys will have much more to talk about between yourselves than we ever did. He's going to the University of Tulsa soon, so maybe you'll be able to talk with him one-on-one. If you do meet him, give him a hug for me. I'm really terrible at ending letters, so, I'll stop here. I'm getting so tired. I think I'll have Jack sign off with another poem for you:_

'I took one draught of life,

I'll tell you what I paid,

Precisely an existence-

The market price, they said.

They weighed me, dust by dust,

They balanced film with film,

Then handed me my being's worth-

A single dram of Heaven.'


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. I think this might be the last chapter, unless you guys want to see the story go somewhere else. I thought it was appropriate to end basically how I began- with Sylvia at the park. I hope you like it._**

I don't know what it was about him, but I just couldn't stay away. Once Dally broke it off again, there wasn't no Hell or high water that'd keep me off of Johnny. He was just a cutie-pie that needed me. Dally didn't need me, we both knew that, and that's why I ran around while wearin' his ring. He's a big boy, he can take his medicine; but Johnny is a different story. There's gotta be some other reason than Dally that'll tell me why he don't want me. So, I decided to see if I couldn't find out what it was. Steve don't scare me as much as he thinks he does, but we still couldn't be seen near each other. I don't wanna risk the threat of gettin' a walloping. I get that enough at home, after all.

Everything was just as normal for a week or so after Dally got out, but one evening, I noticed Johnny sitting all by his lonesome on a park bench. He was all hunched over, like he was sick, or somethin', and a letter was gripped in the shaking hand that didn't hold the cigarette. I lit up my own, and sneaked over to him, hoping he wouldn't notice I was there. "She's gone, Sylvia."

"Who's gone?" I dunno how he figured out I'd been watching. Maybe he knew all along. I sat beside him, but not close enough to put an arm around his shoulders.

"Ivy. She, she died. Last week, she died." His voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it, and a tear balanced on the tip of his nose.

"Who's Ivy?" I took a drag on my smoke, enjoying the feeling of the menthol biting my tongue.

"My girl. She was mine, but she's gone now." He crushed his smoke beneath his shoe, taking a deep shuddering breath.

"How?" I'd never seen someone so upset before, and it all felt unreal. I didn't know what to do or say, so one word questions was all I could muster.

"Cancer." The way he said it sounded like he was cussing, maybe he was.

"Sorry."

"Ain't your fault."

"You told anybody else about this?" I thought maybe the youngest Curtis kid would know, at least, but the look on his face told me he hadn't.

"Didn't wanna worry 'em. They're already worried enough about me, and one more reason'll just make it worse."

"Why're you tellin' me?" I lit another cigarette off the old one, snubbing the butt beneath my heels.

"You're here." I watched as he tried to regain some control, failed to do even that, and ended up sobbing into his jacket sleeves. I put a hand on his shoulder, debating on whether I should stay with him, or make a quick getaway so the boys wouldn't find out.

"Don't take it so hard; there's plenty of other chicks, Johnnycake. Some of 'em's bound to like you. It ain't the end of the world when somebody dies."

"What would you do if Dallas died?" He looked at me strangely, like he was accusing me of somethin' other than cheatin'.

"I'd move on. He ain't worth the coffin they'd bury him in." I was lying, and he knew it.

"Your heart would break, Sylvia. You don't keep going back to him just 'cuz the sex is good; you love him, and you're too scared to admit it. Don't lie to me." I noticed the gleam of a silver ring on his left ring finger as he dried his face.

"She give you that?" I tried taking my eyes off it, but I couldn't.

"Why?" He tugged his jacket sleeve over his hand.

"Just curious. It's real pretty, must be real silver, too."

"Yeah. Why're you bein' so nice to me? What d'you want?"

"I don't want nothin' in particular; I just wanted to know if you had a chick already, and I guess you did."

"You know what'll happen if they see you here, don't you?"

"Steve don't scare me." Seeing Johnny so broke up scared me worse'n any threats those boys could make. "Maybe you should tell that Curtis kid about Ivy."

"It ain't worth it now. Nothing's worth it now." There was something in the way he spoke that made me go and fetch Dallas for him. I knew I couldn't reach him, but Dally could.

"What d'you want?" Dally was sleeping, and he hated to be woken up.

"Johnny needs you."

"What were you doin' with Johnny?" His eyes narrowed. He knew me too well to not ask that question.

"Nothin', I swear. The kid's cryin' on a park bench, and I think you should talk to him. Said somethin' about a girl named Ivy dyin'; he's real broke up about it."

"If I find out that y'all did _anything_ together, I'll make you wish you never saw him. Got it?"

"Got it." I led him over to where Johnny sat, then hid away in an alley to hear them talk. What can I say? I'm a world-class snoop. Move over, Nancy Drew, there's a new girl in town!

Dally sat down closer to Johnny than I had, and they didn't say a word for a couple minutes. "Why'd she wake you up?"

"Said you needed me."

"I don't need anything anymore." Johnny brushed a couple tears away angrily.

"I'm here anyways. Who was she?"

"The girl with those sea-green eyes." He took out his wallet, showing Dally something inside.

"You chose a good one all right, Johnnycake. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Wasn't important. She's gone now, so nothing's changed."

"You have." Dally put an arm around Johnny's shoulders and quit talking. I went home after that. I kinda thought they needed to be alone, and chasing Johnny wasn't so fun anymore.


End file.
